Dragon Age 3: Return of the Maker
by Democratic Anarchy
Summary: "Change is coming to the world. Many fear change, and will fight it with every fiber of their being. But sometimes change is what they need most. Sometimes change is what sets them free." The final installment in the DA universe. M for future chapters.
1. Prologue: Witch Hunt

**Dragon Age 3: The Return of the Maker**

_Prologue: The Witch Hunt_

**So, I recently finished Dragon Age 2, and I didn't like all the cliff-hangers. I've heard they're already in production with Dragon Age 3, and this is my take on what should happen. Rated M for future chapters. Enjoy!**

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><p>It took every bit of willpower Jacen Cousland could muster to walk up the small hill calmly, and not run up and crush her in a hug, or kiss her intensely, or yell at her, or Maker knows what…but paradoxically enough, it took every ounce of strength he had in his body to move his legs forward, not because of the heavy plate armor he was wearing, and up to that damn troublesome mirror, and to face her.<p>

Not even the Archdemon made him stop like she could. It was in the eyes. Those piercing yellow eyes, like a cat. An adequate comparison, he thought, seeing as the shape shifter had transformed into a cat multiple times during her childhood. She was so calculating; he was always unsure of if what he said would be the right thing. And stubborn. At least he knew what to do when he saw the Archdemon. The thing that was supposed to have killed him, and if it had not been for her, he would be dead and buried now. Maker, was this woman fickle.

"The Illuvian," he heard Finn say behind him. His hand rose into the air unconsciously to stop him from going ahead. "And it's…glowing. We should-" Ariane must have successfully stopped him, instead. He no longer heard their footsteps behind him. Jacen kept walking. All he could focus on was her.

The mirror swirled a ghostly purplish color behind her as his faithful dog rushed passed him and up towards the witch, his small tail wagging a mile a minute. Her hand dipped and faded away into the mirror, turning it darker and eliciting more sparks from it. She turned then and glanced at him, with no discernable expression, and bent down towards the dog and smiled. She kneeled down in the dirt and petted his head softly. She seemed happier to see the mongrel, rather than him. No surprise, though, she _had_ told him not to come after her. But how could he not after everything they had done? Especially with his child in her growing belly? She had put up a struggle, though, not to be found. Flemeth had certainly taught her a thing or two about being inconspicuous, he was sure of that. But he had found her now. The hunt was over.

Ariane came up behind him. They did not look at each, but rather their eyes were glued both on the ancient Illuvian, and the witch that stood in front of it. Morrigan. "I think she's….waiting for you," she whispered. If only she had waited for him after he slew the Archdemon, he thought, with his head bent. Jacen continued to walk forward. "Ask her about our book," the elf said. But his mind was not on such things.

Step, after step, after step, he inched closer to her, and he kept his eyes locked onto hers. Morrigan swayed back and forth, her small garments did little to cover her body, and Jacen felt that hunger for her once more.

Then he reached the small steps leading up to the Illuvian, after what had seemed like an eternity. There she was. Petite, tall, imposing, dark, powerful, attractive. Her raven hair was still up in her usual bun, with her bangs hanging lazily over her forehead. He could barely breathe.

Jacen motioned to walk up the steps to close the gap between them, but she crossed her arms and a sad frown crossed her pale face. "No further, please." He was surprised after all this time to hear her voice. "One more step and I leave for good this time," the words spilled coolly out of her mouth.

After everything, and she was threatening to leave again? Jacen remained calm, despite the wounds he was now feeling from the battle with the horrible creature that guarded this place. "Hello to you, too, Morrigan." His voice unfortunately displayed some of the anxiousness at seeing her that he was feeling. He cleared his throat.

Morrigan's stare did not falter, but she tilted her head to motion towards the still glowing mirror behind her. "I assume you know what this is." Jacen scoffed, that much was obviously, he thought. How was she not happy to see him? Well, the only answer he could find for that question was that it was Morrigan, and she never liked to be vulnerable, and she found happiness a liability. "I have gone to great lengths to find and activate this portal. Give me reason, and I'll use it, and you won't be able to follow." Her voice was soft now, with a hint of sadness that he was able to detect.

"I didn't come here to fight you." He ached to walk up the steps and be next to her.

"I did not think you had," she replied. Sadness again. "Tell me, why did you come?"

Wasn't it obvious? "I couldn't let it end like that, Morrigan." He wanted to tell her that he needed her, but Maker knows she would just think of him as foolish.

Her lips twisted up into a kind of smug-looking smirk. "And you once argued with me that love is not a weakness? I will never understand you." The smile faded as she said, "And you will never understand me."

"I could if you helped me. I'm a fast learner," Jacen said as he went up one of the steps.

Morrigan looked confused, an expression that seldom crossed her features. "I…would not even know where to begin explaining."

So many questions raced through his mind. Why did she desire the Archdemon's soul? Why did she have to leave? Why did she want the Illuvian so badly? What would become of the child that he knew was growing inside of her? But none more heart-pounding that, Can I come with you?

Question after question was answered with riddles, and puzzles of words of which he could not solve or decipher. He still felt as much in the dark as the night he performed the ritual with her.

She took a step towards him. "We performed the ritual together, and you have survived. But that does not change what is to come." A chill ran up the Warden's spine. "Change is coming to the world. Many fear change, and will fight it with every fiber of their being." He hated it when she spoke in such a way that he could not understand, it made him feel like a child again, but perhaps that was the reason she did it. "But sometimes, change is what they need most. Sometimes, change is what sets them free."

He had had enough of the dark prophecy. "And is that what you want?" He motioned forward, with his voice raised. "To be free?"

She looked at him blankly. "What I want…is unimportant now." Then Morrigan turned away from him, and walked back towards the sparking Illuvian. Jacen followed, knowing that she would not flee if he approached her. "I cannot tarry longer. The time has come for me to go."

"Take me with you," he replied quickly, but calmly. The words just came without thinking. He knew that it was what he wanted.

Her eyes widened and her eyebrows raised, Morrigan's expression did nothing to hide her surprise. "You cannot know what you ask," she said, "'twould be better if you stayed. For you, and us both."

Since when did he do the safe thing for himself? "I want to go with you. I need to go with you."

"Then come, my love. We will face the future together." For the first time in a long time, Morrigan smiled at him. He had forgotten about Finn and Ariane the minute he walked past them.

He moved forward, finally able to close the space between them, and his lips were upon hers, soft and gentle, they were the antitheses of her rugged life in the Korcari Wilds. Jacen could have stayed there forever.

But then it was over. And she was facing the Illuvian again, with an anxious look on her face. He stretched out his hand to test the mirror, and, not surprisingly, his hand seemed to evaporate just as hers had when she touched the ancient eleven artifact. Taking two steps forward, Morrigan walked into the mirror and was gone. Not looking back, Jacen followed close behind, and was swallowed up into a hazy purplish nothingness.

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><p><strong>Did you like it? Sorry that it was kind of short. I'm not good at prologues...Anywho, please review~!<strong>


	2. A Revolt, An Escape, and a Tunnel

**Dragon Age 3: The Return of the Maker**

_Chapter 2: A Revolt, An Escape, and a Tunnel_

**Hey, everyone. Sorry for this really long delay. I can say it was from a combination of writer's block and laziness. Please review. I do not own Dragon Age or any of the characters. (Unfortunately).**

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><p>"<em>The time has come to act. There can be no half measures," he preaches to First Enchanter Orsino. She watches, stunned, as she begins to feel a low rumble amidst the stone and the rubble on the ground.<em>

"_Anders, what have you done?"_

_He does not look at her when he tells her that it had to be done. _

_As he finishes, she can see a beam of light erupt from Hightown, from the Chantry. She does not know if it is real, or if it is just a trick of light playing upon the buildings. Or if her eyes deceive her. But then she can see the huge chunks of rock fly into the sky, and the once towering statue fall to the ground. It is then that she knows that it is real. The screams of the citizens of Kirkwall make sure of that. _

"_There can be no peace," she hears him say, but everything seems so distant. Her eyes do not acknowledge the surprised and shocked looks of her companions, least of all those of Orsino and Meredith. She does not see the resolved look on Anders face. All she registers are the screams and the aftershock. The screams never seem to end._

_And then everyone is gone. Orsino has told her to meet him in the Gallows and her other companions stand far away from her looking altogether unsure and indignant. Anders is telling her that this is the justice all mages have awaited. The Champion, as she is called, is torn between anger and pity. She wonders if Bethany is pleased with this and then realizes she would just be as furious as Meredith was. _

"_I might have understood if you only told me," she answers. She imagines the Grand Cleric torn apart by the blast, and all the innocents that went to the Chantry for peace, not for death. What would she have done had he told her?_

"_But what if you stopped me?" Is the question she is asked. In her heart she knows that she would have. "The world needs to see this. Then we can all stop pretending that the Circle is a solution."_

_A sudden anger rises from deep inside her as she feels the bitter sting of his betrayal and murder. Even though she agreed that the Templars, namely Meredith, had gone too far, now she was debating over her previous decision to aid Orsino. How many more innocents would die?_

"_Whatever you do, just do it," Anders tells her from the broken crate on which he sits. She knows what must be done as she reaches for her dagger. _

_More images flash through her head of the men, women, and children lost within the explosion. Justice needed to be served for the lives lost because of this one man. The man which she loved with all her heart. "You deserve to pay for what you've done," she can hear herself saying, but she feels out of her body. If she was about to do this, then she had to be._

"_For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you. It was nice to be happy…for a while," he says, finally in the surprisingly still air of Lowtown. One had to concentrate to hear the far away sound of fires burning down houses. She does not breathe as she drives her dagger into his back and watches him fall to the ground, lifeless. _

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><p>Kaira Hawke awoke with a start from her bed, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. It took her a moment of glancing around to realize that the large room filled with dressers and trunks was her bedroom in Hightown. She is filled with a sudden urge to call out for her mother, but then she remembers what became of her mother and the small grave that she is buried in; the one which she and Gamlen dug together. The only reassuring thing she finds in her room is the strong mabari war hound sleeping peacefully near the fireplace. Kaira watched as his sides rose and fell slowly in rhythm with his breathing and she was finally content with the knowledge that something she loved still breathed.<p>

Lifting the covers off her small frame, she sat up and stared into the crackling flames of the fire which Bodahn had so kindly made for her. Amidst the burning embers she saw something familiar. It was a face.

"Anders?" She asked softly.

Another crackle caused the strange placement of the embers to shift, and the face was gone. It had probably been her imagination, she thought to herself, and felt that annoying sense of foolishness return to her. She could never seem to forget about him, and when she did finally let her mind wander, something would pop up to remind her. It was exhausting and made her feel out of touch with those around her. Kaira supposed it was only natural, though. It had been less than two weeks ago that she killed him. Everything had changed after the final battle. Isabela left her once again in search of riches on her newfound ship, Merrill had gotten wind of a different Dalish tribe in the area, and left to join them, Sebatian abandoned her when she allied with the mages, and Aveline was planning to move back to Ferelden with Donnic. Kaira felt altogether alone. She could not go to Fenris, who had been deeply jealous of her relationship with Anders, and not to Varric, who knew little when it came to matters of the heart.

Sighing, the weary Champion rose from her position and made her way out of her bedroom, still clad in her bed clothes. Her movement alerted her mabari, which quietly followed suit. Remembering the spot where Anders had stood on the balcony, a familiar wave of sadness and loss washed over her. But this was not the first loved one she had lost. Her fearless and headstrong brother Carver was killed many years ago, and she still could not let herself remember the sound of his bones cracking from the strength of the ogre's hands. Her loving, treasured mother was taken from her by the madness of a pyschopathic mage wishing to reconstruct his dead wife. Finally, there was Anders, the one person she knew in her heart she could have saved, but she took his life with her own blade, not because she wasn't smart enough, or quick enough.

Kaira traced her fingers across the relatively cool stone of the balcony. _His_ hands had been here. _He_ had been here, alive and smiling at her. But not anymore. She briefly wondered what had become of his body, but then she remembered there had been a fire soon after the battle with Meredith. His ashes had probably wafted all the way towards the Wounded Coast by now.

The sound of her dog's barking startled her out of her Anders-focused daze. A pounding on the door promptly followed. Looking out the nearby window, Kaira saw that it was easily the middle of the night. The caution that was building within her drove her to pick up her nearby blade and creep toward the door, prepared for whatever may lie in wait.

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><p>As quickly as they had dissappeared into the mirror, they were both enveloped in light, and then they were in a field. It was night, wherever they were now and Jacen could faintly smell the sea. He was lying down, and the tall grass was so thick he could barely see anything surrounding him. If he peered hard enough, he could see a cluster of trees in the distance. A terrible fear struck him when he looked around and could not see the supple frame of Morrigan. He dared not to call out her name, for fear of beasts roaming the plains, but he doubted that she would teleport them to an unsafe place.<p>

Getting up quietly, he dusted off the soil from his armor and paced around in search of her. Had she abandoned him again? Was the mirror just a ploy to leave him and get him off her trail? His heart raced wildly, and he would have been sweating, had the relatively slow breeze kept him cool. His fears were assuaged, though, when he saw her appear out of a black portal beside him. She staggered, and he motioned out to catch her. Jacen could smell the sweet scent of pines on her. She had obviously kept to heavily wooded areas in their separation.

"Morrigan..." He said. She looked up at him with her cat eyes and kissed him. He could not get enough of her.

Jacen tore off the heavy gloves he wore so that he could once more feel her skin. It was light and creamy and soft. How had he survived without feeling it? Morrigan closed her eyes and let out a soft moan. He trailed his on the small of her back and up, so that he could undo the skimpy clothing that she wore. Her small hands helped him as he removed his terribly heavy armor. Skin against skin, it was almost too much for him. With all the conviction he had, he knew that he had to have her then and there, or he would desperately need to have a dip in that, probably ice cold, ocean.

There was only a small bump on her stomach, where his child grew. He placed his hands on the bump, kissed it, and removed her underclothes. Without her gaze breaking his, Morrigan removed his as well. He kissed up her body, trailing his hands along with his mouth. Jacen kissed her once more. Then they were lost in each other admist the tall grasses.

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><p>She readied herself for an attack as she barely opened the door. To her relief (she let out a verbal sigh), it was Bethany. "Sister," Kaira said, calmly. "Come in." Without saying hello, and with barely a look, Bethany nearly ran inside the house. Her mabari jumped up excitedly, and tried to lick Bethany's small hand.<p>

Bethany's previous blank expression almost immediately transformed into one of horror and worry. "Kaira, something's happened..." She trailed off.

Her sister could tell something was deeply troubling her. "Wait, would you like to sit down? Have some water, maybe?" Kaira motioned towards the table in the adjacent room.

Bethany shook her head so fast it appeared as though it was going to fall off. "No, no. There's no time," she pleaded.

"Tell me what's wrong, then." Kaira could not help the seed of worry begin to creep its way into the back of her mind.

Her sister began to pace around the room. "The other mages, they've started to attack people. Demanding compensation for the way the templars treated them. The Gallows, it's on fire. Before now, everyone was complacent, and didn't know what to do now that Meredith was gone. There were some that had the ideas for a violent call to action to save the mages from other towers. They-" Bethany was saying all of this so fast, her face had become flushed. She took a deep breath. "-They captured any living templars a few days ago, and have been using magical forms of torture. Many of them died the first day. But...Cullen, he...he made it, so they executed him. They've hung his body on the gates to the city."

Kaira was speechless. How had that much been occuring right outside her door, and she hadn't noticed any of it? Had she really been that focused on Anders that she missed that much? The death of Cullen? She could have prevented that, had she just made a simple speech to the mages. She realized that she had been sleeping most days, but when she couldn't sleep, she paced around her house, with weary eyes from Bodahn. She never asked for news, so she never got any. She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten.

Bethany saw that if Kaira had an appropriate response, she wasn't about to say it. "The mages, they're plundering and burning houses, and killing people not far from here and...they're using your name as their battle cry. I was able to get out of the crowd and rush here. I needed to warn you...They're planning on taking you hostage and forcing you to lead them. If not..."

How could they do that? After everything? She had sacrificed so much to aid the mage cause, and now they are acting worse than their enslavers. Kaira was furious...and scared. "If not, what?"

Bethany swallowed. "They're going to kill you to make it look like Cullen and his templars murdered you. They'd pretend like you were a martyr, then." Kaira's sister searched in the Champion's eyes for guidance. She found nothing but confusion, anger, and fear. "We need to leave Kirkwall. Now. I know a passage out of the city. There's a tunnel in Darktown."

"I'll get a couple things. Wake Bodahn and Sandal. Tell them to pack only essentials," Kaira instructed. She looked towards her faithful four-legged warhound, and pulled out two trinkets that belonged to Varric and Fenric, respectively. "You know what to do. Find me afterwards. Hurry." The dog sniffed the objects, licked his master, and ran out the door as fast as his paws could carry him. Kaira turned her back to her sister and raced up the stairs.

Throwing on her champion armor, grabbing her daggers, and stuffing her various potions and other clothes into a small sack, she was ready in less than five minutes. "Damn," she said to herself, "I was faster getting out of Lothering." Kaira then ran back to the balcony quickly, touched Ander's stone quickly, and made her way down the stairs and out the back door with Bethany, Sandal, and Bodahn.

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><p>Finally, with all his armor back on, Jacen was ready for whatever Morrigan had in store. "Where to, my lady?" He teased.<p>

She smiled and looked out towards the plains, and spotted something towering above the shore in the distance. "Kirkwall."

"We're in the Free Marches?" he asked.

She scoffed nonchalantly. "Obviously. We need to find a mage named Orsino. He has some very interesting knowledge."

He moved towards her. "About what, exactly?"

"You'll find out in time, my love." Morrigan put on her shoes, and began to trudge through the plains, carefully avoiding fallen trees and puddles of water. Jacen caught up with her, but found it difficult to maneuver in his heavy plate armor. "But first, there should be a tunnel somewhere not far from there. We need to go through that. Kirkwall doesn't take too kindly to apostates showing up at its gates."

"You'd be surprised how no one seems to care in the big cities. We just need to blend in."

Morrigan frowned. "We shall act like refugees. They have plenty of Fereldens in this city."

Jacen merely nodded in agreement.

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><p><strong>How was it? I tried to make this chapter longer, since I don't know when I'll update next. Please review.<strong>


	3. Enchantment

**Dragon Age 3: Return of the Maker**

_Chapter 2: Enchantment_

Sorry for the wait. School just started, and everything's been super hectic. I'll try to update again soon. Please read and review. I don't own Dragon Age. :(

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><p>Pounding. Hard, blunt, and tremendous pounding. The door was ready to split in two. Fists of rock flew through the air and collided with the door to the Hawke estate, but, still somehow, it stood firm.<p>

"It isn't working," said a young, cloaked man from behind him. He, unlike the others, was not donning a staff. A dwarven made blade shimmered in the moonlight, asserting that he was not from the Gallows.

Again, another fist crashed into the seemingly wooden-made door. The man casting the spell shot him a look. "Do you think I'm blind? Of course I can see that it isn't working." The younger one frowned, but stepped farther away, as if he acknowledged his lowly place as a man-of-hire. The man abandoned his efforts as he lowered his staff. "The damn thing is enchanted. Powerful stuff, too." He glanced around. "You," he commanded to a surprisingly toughly built female mage. "Help me."

She approached him, looking rather broody. "Sir." She raised her cracked and burned wooden staff.

"Dispel it," the leader commanded. He, too, raised his weapon. The female underling did as she was told, and a brilliant, crystal blue enveloped the vicinity. She gave a nod to the commander, who gave little recognition. "You, swordsman. Break it down," he boomed at the renegade standing amongst the other mages.

By now, the still residing citizens in the Quarter were peeking out their windows, but no one shone any visible light through their windows. They were his audience, but they knew better than to draw attention to themselves. In the past days, everyone in the city knew that their lives hung on a very thin strand, after the mobocracy had grown into a full fledged extremist regime, which seemed to be approaching the despicable-ness of Meredith. Many of the citizens of Kirkwall were dead; killed from a plundering attempt gone wrong, or a fire. Many were too afraid to leave their houses, for fear of attack by rogues or to see the decaying body of Cullen hanging at the city gates. Many tried as best to be submissive, so as not to get caught in the crossfire, but even these types of people ended up dead.

The swordsman came up to the front of the group, as he had been before. His black, torn cloak covered his faces, making him appear as one of the shadows. He huffed slightly, still slightly sore from the reprimanding remark earlier. Bracing his sword, in case something was within the house, he bashed door with his foot and it swung open easily. The house, from what could be seen from outside, shone brightly with light. Knowing that he was the one that would have to go check and see if the coast was clear, the swordsman entered.

The leader of the mage group and his followers impatiently waited outside. Even from outside, they could hear the crack from within the house as other doors were kicked open. It did not take long until the man reentered into the square. "From what I saw," he said, "there wasn't anybody inside. The fireplace in her bedroom was still hot. Seems like she left in a hurry."

"Check and see," said the leader angrily to his followers. He tried to remain calm to keep the best control over the group, but he was fuming from within. The gut feeling he had told him that she was, indeed, gone. That would have meant that someone tipped her off. And the only logical person that could have been was the Champion's sister. Turning towards the female once more, he said, "Go see where our dear Bethany is."

She made no noise, but merely nodded, and ran off towards the Gallows. His assumptions were confirmed just a few moments later when one of his followers resurfaced. "He's right. The Champion isn't here."

Scowling, the mage turned and walked away. But not towards the Gallows. Instead, he started to make his way to the city gates. "Follow me," he commanded. "She's fled the city."

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><p>The chill of the night finally set in his bones as the metal chainmail pressed against his skin had turned bitterly cold. But she seemed unfazed, even with her tattered rags she called clothing. Both of them has been trudging through the grasslands for so long, he had lost track of time. However, they were so accustomed to walking for long distances, that it did not irk him to any large degree. He did, though, doubt her sense of direction.<p>

"Are you sure that this is the right way?" Jacen finally asked.

Morrigan, who had clearly set her mind to this journey, did not stop to respond. "Yes," she replied, her voice disturbing the cool midnight air. "I have been planning this for a long time. 'Twould be foolish of me not to know the way."

Jacen nodded in acknowledgement of her correctness, and continued to walk.

He had never been to Kirkwall, he thought. He wondered what it would be like; if the walls would be like Denerim's or if the streets would be as bustling. He wondered what it would smell like, if the rustic smell of Denerim would be present so far north. He wondered what the people were like, if the class divisions would be so apparent like they were in nearly all of Ferelden. And perhaps most of all, he wondered why they were going to see this Orsino man. Jacen had never heard of him in all of his travels, but, then again, he was frequently treated as some kind of puppet because of his status as "the Hero of Ferelden".

And, he wondered, why had Morrigan agreed to let him come? He knew she cared for him, but she was able to leave him once. So, deep in those cat eyes, there must have been another reason. He knew that she planned for him to find her with the Illuvian, or, at least, she had had a great inkling that he would find her. She must have thought about what would happen once he found her.

Jacen, perhaps more than anything, wanted to know what was floating around in that methodical mind of hers.

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><p>By then, her legs were straining and she was starting to sweat, but she knew that to stop put them at risk of being sighted. And she would not allow her baby sister, Bodahn, and Sandal, who had been with her for years, to be caught. She had already failed Carver, her mother, and Anders. To allow any more souls to perish because of her would be a travesty. So, even though she ached, and was tired, and felt like she had nothing, Kaira continued to run. Through the highest, and most well kept walls of the Hightown market, to the rusted pipes near the Blooming Rose, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her.<p>

Kaira hoped, just as much as her hope that her weak state would not hinder Bethany and the others, that her faithful mabari reached Varric and Fenris unintercepted. She knew how odd a sight it would be for anyone if a full-gown, muscular, heavy-set mabari war hound came running at full speed past them. At least in Hightown, that is, where feral beasts were much less common, especially those of killer war dogs. She trusted him, though, he was fast and smart, but she hoped he would be able to meet back up with her after they had safely gotten out of the city.

They were merely minutes away from Lowtown, when she spotted a group of maybe four or five mages patrolling around the corner. "Wait," she whispered, as she held out her arm to stop the others. "There's a patrol."

Bethany and the others tried to get as far into the shadows as the architecture and their body size would allow them. "We can't stay in the open like this forever. We're sitting ducks if we do," she whispered anxiously.

Kaira frowned. It looked like they weren't moving anywhere any time soon. "I know. But there is no way around." She wanted to avoid open conflict as much as possible, as she understood the unwanted attention that would bring them.

Moments that felt like hours passed. Bethany finally spoke, "They aren't moving. We have to do something."

Kaira dreaded the risk they were taking, but she knew it was the best course of action. Pressing herself against the wall in preparation for a sneak attack, she took out her twin daggers from their small sheaths. Small droplets of the green posion laced on the blades dripped to the stone ground.

But then, out of nowhere, Sandal had manuevered out of Bodahn's protective grasp and walked into plain sight. Kaira, Bethany, and Sandal's eyes nearly popped out of their eyes from fear and surprise. "Sandal!" Kaira hissed, "Get back here, now! You're going to kill us all!"

Sandal returned her look of fear and anger with a blank stare and a broad-mouthed smile. "Enchantment!" He clapped, and laughed loudly. From her view point, Kaira could see the mages turn towards Sandal with looks of surprise. Most of them grinned.

Everyone but Sandal prepared for the worst.

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><p>Finally, after what seemed like hours of walking, Jacen could finally see the light that eminated from the city of Kirkwall. He figured Morrigan saw it too, as she had finally stopped and waited for him. His armor made loud clanking noises in the night air, and he realized how jealous he was of Morrigan because she had no need to wear the tank of a suit he had to wear day in and day out.<p>

"We're here," she said quietly when he finally reached her. Some of her raven hair had fallen out from its usual bun, and he fought the urge to put it behind her ear. He knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such actions.

Jacen stretched. "Nonsense. We still have walking to do," he said in his conviction.

Morrigan merely shook her head. "No, we're taking a tunnel to Kirkwall," she replied. "In this strenuous task of walking you must have forgotten."

He frowned. "Apparently."

"No matter," Morrigan said, "the tunnel is right here." She motioned towards a large boulder.

Jacen laughed. "Under that?"

"Yes. And the activation of the Illuvian has drained me of much of my mana. I need you to move it," Morrigan said plainly.

He sighed. "I'll try." Jacen removed his heavy-plate gloves in order to get a better grip on the massive thing. Steadying himself, and posistioning his body at a good angle, Jacen pushed with all his might. At first, nothing happened, but then it broke loose with whatever had been holding it, and it careened off a few feet in front of him.

Morrigan gave a sly smile. "You're still strong, I see."

Jacen winked at her, trying his best to look appealing. "Still," he said.

She looked at him for another moment, then motioned towards the now apparent hold present in the ground. "Now, help me down."

* * *

><p>"Enchantment!" Sandal cried happily once more. Kaira was fuming, but shaking slightly from nervousness. She certainly didn't feel like any sort of 'Champion'.<p>

The mages laughed condescendingly, but appeared to not be prepared to give the boy any sort of leniancy. "Look a' him," a huskier one said, "he's some sorta freak."

A taller, spindly one glared at the husky one. "I wouldn't talk if I were you, Baravere. Just get rid of him."

The one named Baravere grunted. Had it not have been for Bethany's steadying hand, Bodahn would have been out there. If the mage just got a little closer, Kaira would have a good chance of reaching him on a jump...

But, then Sandal, with a small clap of his hands and another child-like giggle, caused a small ball of light to shoot out from his hands and fly in the air towards Baravere. He stared, unable to move, as it collided with his head and caused him to fall to the ground. The light then bounced off each of the other mages, each of which preceeded to fall to the ground. Kaira couldn't believe her eyes. She knew Sandal possessed enchantment capabilities, but not to a scale of full blown magic. She nearly kicked herself as she remembered the time in the deep roads where he froze an entire ogre solid. "Sandal," she said, exstaticly. "Good job!"

"Enchantment?" Sandal asked, seeming looking for praise.

Kaira smiled. "Yes, enchantment." Sandal nearly did a dance with joy.

Bodahn rushed over to Sandal's side. "That's my boy, Sandal!" He ruffled his dishwater blonde hair.

Bethany, meanwhile, checked the fallen mages. "I know these men," she said. "Baravere used to be very nice." She rolled them over, to check and see if they had a pulse. It was normal. "They're alive. I don't know what kind of spell that was, but thank the Maker Sandal used it." She stood up, and brushed the dirt off of her robes. "We better go. I don't know how long they will be out. Or what they will remember."

Kaira stopped. "You think they'll remember? That we'll be found out?"

Bethany nodded. "If not by them, then they'll find out for themselves that we're fleeing."

Her sister nodded and motioned for Bodahn and Sandal to come. "Then let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>Like it? Hate it? Love it? Tell me what you think.<strong>


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